Underneath the Surface (On Hold)

10: Coward

Answering the questions of the first History test of this schoolyear had still been very difficult, despite the many hours I had spent learning for it. David had helped me with so much and I had actually been studying a lot in my room the last few days. But the test was on Friday and I had woken up with this uncontrollable feeling of anxiety. It wasn't because of the test though. Today was the day I was supposed to go on a date with Phoebe.

The blank pages of the form on which we had to write down our answers had made my mind drift off to our encounter this last Wednesday. I constantly had to think about the look of disgust on both Phoebe's and Lindsay's faces when Lindsay had accused me of being gay. Them reacting in such a negative way had completely torn down any confidence I had built up about it after the conversation with my dad.

And now I had to go on a date with a girl that I didn't find remotely attractive in any way. Why was I such a coward? Why did I need the approval of people I didn't even like?

After the bell had rung, I had hesitantly handed in my test on the teachers' desk with the awful feeling David would probably be very disappointed. He had been waiting for me outside of the classroom, since he had finished his test way earlier than I did. I had just shrugged my shoulders when he had asked me how it went and we both parted ways, because he had to be at swim practice and I needed to be in the detention classroom. Fischer had told me we would continue painting the wall next week.

I was now sitting in the back of the room and watched as Miss Jenkins told two freshman students to stop writing their notes to each other. They both turned bright red and mumbled their apologies.

It made me grin.

Miss Jenkins stood up from behind the desk in front of the classroom and walked over to a cabinet near me. She opened it, took a few sheets of paper from it and then turned to look at the work in front of me.

"Do you need help with that?" she asked softly.

"No, thanks," I replied.

Still, she pulled back the chair next to mine and sat down with a concerned look on her face. Miss Jenkins was probably in her late forties and her expression caused a few deep frown lines to appear on her forehead.

"I am seeing improvement in your behavior Nicholas, but I can't help it to still feel a bit worried."

"Why?'

She quickly looked up at the rest of the students to check if everyone was quietly working and then continued, with her expression softening a bit.

"I know you loved to swim and I think it would be good for you as some sort of outlet. Therefore, I've talked to coach Johnson. He said he will let you back on the team again if you keep working this hard."

"You didn't have to do that," I muttered.

It wasn't like she didn't mean well, but I still couldn't find it in me to be thankful to her. The time we had spent talking – or her trying to get me to talk – in her office after mom had died had felt so forced. I had never felt comfortable around her, though she tried very hard to make me feel at ease. She had suggested that I would go see a shrink and it had made me feel like she thought I was a crazy person. Everything she said just pushed the wrong buttons with me.

"Please think about it," Miss Jenkins said and she walked over to her desk again.

Swimming díd make me feel good. There was something peaceful about being in the water, just underneath the surface. I loved the silence and it had always let me escape the world for a few seconds.

Being back in the pool with my old teammates and being able to joke around with them again sounded tempting and it would give me an excuse to see David more, since he had joined the team after I quit.